Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

As much fun as it would be for me and Graham if I did a post about David Bowie this post is about the changes in my own life. Its summer and it is time for me to get my act together in several areas of my life. First off, living with Chris and seeing him complete the Power 90 program and lose all that weight and get super buff makes me want to do something similar. So, I'm now watching what I eat and exercising. I would like to lose 15 pounds this summer. I weighed myself last night so I've got the goal weight in mind. Also, it would be fun to get 2 inches off my waist. So here we go, keep track with me over on the side --->.

Also, my God time habits are poor at best, so new, revamped reading plan as well as designated God time. Last summer for a month I had my phone go off several times a day reminding me to pray. The system worked well enough, but after the month I quickly feel out of the habit. So I want to try a new system this summer. I want to give God my little mindless moments, such as when I'm brushing my teeth, or shampooing my hair. When I'm boiling water to make mac and cheese, or going for an extra run because I ate too much mac and cheese. I want to make praying such a regular part of my life that I find myself praying without it being premeditated. I want to be halfway through a prayer before I even realize I've started. Ok, maybe not that extreme, but the point is that now I make little time for it, and I want to make all the time for it. I'm not going to do a counter for that, you'll just have to trust that it is going ok.

Well, friends, wish me luck as I set out to accomplish these goals. What is it that you want to achieve this summer? Whatever it is I wish you well, unless its like starting a sweat shop or getting into drugs or something.

Days 31-32

Days 26-30

Days 21-25

Days 16-20

Days 11-15

Keeping on for the daughters. Showing off a new man bag and a new haircut.

Days 6-10

The second set of five days. For the daughters.

Days 1-5

Here are my first five days of the One Dress(Shirt) Project to raise awareness for The Daughter Project.

Dominican Reflections: God in Saman

Danny

Several people were introduced to us early on in the trip as being people who would be very helpful. One of them was a young man named Danny. Danny was a Haitian who spoke good Spanish and was better at English than nearly everyone in Saman. He was eager to learn more English and spent much of his time with us asking what words were for different tools and learning other words he heard us use. Talking with Danny I found out most of the English he knew he learned from his copy of an English Bible. He brought it with him one day to show me. You could tell by the way he carried it that it something highly treasured.

Regularly Danny carried around a small, green, paperback book, which I found out was a John Piper book that had been translated to Spanish. Danny told me the book was about having joy in God. I told him Piper is highly respected in the US, and that I was certain the book was great. In the back of the book, written in pencil were words that Danny was learning. Some of the words had drawings next to them to help him remember their meaning.

Danny told me he wanted to go to the US to study theology, but it seems like it will be hard for him to accomplish that. He currently works 14 hours a night, six days a week, as a security guard. The pay is not good, but it is what is available. I wonder when he sleeps, because he is with us from late morning until he has to go to work. He told my brother he sleeps for a couple hours at work. There is another guard intruders would have to get past before they get to Danny, so he says it is not a big deal if he dozes for a little bit.

Danny quickly becomes my favorite person in Saman. In our free time we chat about the church and what the differences are in the DR versus in the States. He explains to me that there is a lot of rules associated with being a Christian in the Dominican. For example, he says that Christians are not supposed to drink. He also tells me that he does not agree with this, and I can't help but like him all the more.

Before we left Danny asked for our contact information: email and facebook. I haven't heard from him yet, but I look forward to hearing from him and keeping in touch.


Church

One night we were invited to go to church with a young man named Edwardo. Shortly after dinner he and another boy named Ricardo lead us into town to a small one roomed church. The place was packed, and a few people had to stand outside. Nonetheless, we were treated liked honored guests and seats were given to us.

The service started with different folk coming up front and leading the congregation in a song of their choice. The church had a keyboardist and guitarist, but no one seemed to have told them what songs they were going to be playing, or what key they were in. Depending on the complexity of the song, the musicians spent 30 seconds to three minutes trying to figure out what key the song was being sung in, and what the chords were. Also, there were two large speakers in the church turned up as loud as they could go, so every clashing chord and wrong note was blasted in your ears. It was hard not to get frustrated with the whole process.

After the music the pastor came up and started speaking to us in Spanish. When he realized we did not speak Spanish he called up Lolo to translate for him. After a few kind, welcoming words, the speaker for the night came up. She preached in Spanish, the pastor translated it into Creole, and Lolo then into English. One sentence at a time. Microphones at full volume.

The room was small enough that talking loudly would be more than enough volume for everyone to hear, so I was really baffled why they used mics at all, especially since everything they said sounded muffled and distorted through their sound system. Also, Lolo's English was not very good, and he essentially kept telling us, "God wants your time," while pointing to his heart. While I didn't get it at the time, it was probably exactly what our group needed to hear.

After the speaker finished a pile of what looked like American passports where brought up to the front of the church and prayed over. I never did figure out what that was all about, but when that was over people shook hands and left. Many people seemed to make sure they shook our hands, and a few small children wrapped themselves around my legs. It was the best experience of the service by far.

It was not until I was back in the states that I realized the significance of what Lolo kept saying. "God wants your time." That week, although it was a mission trip, we set aside no real time just for God. Sure, we served and loved the people, but there was not time for prayer or worship or communion or anything. The whole week I think we prayed over maybe two or three meals.

I left that week feeling like we could have done more, and looking back, I'm certain we would have if we had given God more of our time.

Dominican Reflections: Life in Saman

Waking up on the second day none of us felt all too rested. Its true we had been laying down for about ten and a half hours, but the beds sucked and there was all kinds of ridiculous noised going on outside. Dogs fighting, people sawing and hammering, and several over zealous roosters who began announcing dawn just after midnight. Upon their revelation that the sun was not quite ready to rise they would shut up for about an hour and then give it another shot.

So, feeling rather groggy the seven of us (Marie is still in Newark at this point) make our way to the outside and soon to our neighbors for breakfast. We eat a hardy meal and then begin of first day of "work."

The first thing we need to do is get supplies. Several of us head to town to find some of our basic needs: tools, wood, nails, pvc pipe. Carol drives off with Jerace, a local with a car who is supposed to be helping us, to find some 50 gallon barrels. Several hours later we have some of what we need and get to work doing what we can, which at this point is next to nothing. We piece together some stands for the barrels, and manage to install one pipe on a house.

Much of our day was spent just sitting around and seeing what life in Saman was like. From what we could tell, Saman is populated mostly with Haitians, from newborns to those in their mid to late thirties. There were some who were older than that, but the curve was pretty drastic. Something there was no shortage of was babies. Babies and little kids everywhere. Some of them wore clothes, but many of the younger ones ran around naked or with just a shirt on.

What stood out the most though was that it seemed like so many of them had nothing to do. All day many of them just sat around. They have no TVs, no computers, not even books. Some have radios, but the power doesn't always work. Those who have jobs usually work nights, but you wonder when they sleep because they are up all time we are.

Near our house kids play marbles. I think I've figured our the rules, but I probably would still get it wrong if I tried to play. The oldest man we've seen lives next door, and he comes around with a stalk of sugar cane and a machete and cuts pieces for us to chew on. Its surprisingly sweet, but not sickly. Its sugar the way it was meant to taste. There is an abundance of the stuff here, so much so that fields of it simply get burned because they have no use for it. One day we woke up to find it raining ash after such an incident. Little kids everywhere walk around with this sweet treat.

Women gather in small groups, doing each others hair, some doing laundry, each one pregnant or just recently gave birth. Their babies are being passed around, and toddlers wander a short radius from their moms. Even though there was not much to do, the women seemed to always have some work to do.

My brother played soccer with some of the young men one day. It seemed like this was a regular game, occurring once a week. My brother said it was a lot of fun, but not knowing anyone he was playing with was tough, and he thinks he kept passing the ball to the other team.

As night approaches, the little kids go inside, but many of the boys in their teens and twenties go on hanging out in the dark. And it is dark. The power goes out every night around eight, so when the sun goes down it gets DARK. Some of them go out at night. They may not be able to afford more than a beer, but the dancing is free. Some others go to evening church services, which are just as loud as the bars, but that is another story entirely...

One Dress (Shirt)

Beware the Ides of March. That's a warning to all them jerks who are supporting sex slavery, not you, my dear readers.

Today is the day I start wearing one dress shirt for an entire month. The idea is not my own, but rather this is something started by my friend, Amy Seiffert. She decided about 4 months ago to wear one grey dress every day for six months as a way to raise money and awareness for The Daughter Project. Amy's idea was to use something she is passionate about, fashion, as a way to open doors and let people know what is going on, even just twenty minutes away in Toledo.

The Daughter Project works with girls who were victims of sex trafficking, helping them to get through the trauma of the experience, and works towards preventing other girls from being trafficked. You can find more information on through the link above.

So, dear reader, as I stated today is day one for my shirt. I don't expect to have quite the impact that Amy has had so far, its doubtful I'll show up on CNN, but perhaps I can spread some knowledge to the world of Findlay High School. We shall see, dear readers. We shall see.

Reflecting on the Dominican: Arrival

I would like to take my next few entries to reflect on my recent trip to the Dominican Republic. It was my first time out of the country, other than the Canadian side of Niagra Falls, and my first real mission trip. What made the trip all the more enjoyable is that I got to go with some of my favorite people: my mother, my brother, and Marie.

Arrival

February 23, 4:30AM I'm awoken by my phone alarm. I've been up late catching up on NBC's Thursday night line up, so the alarm received even more scorn than it already was for going off at this horrific hour. I roll out of bed, take a quick pee, load up the car, and then I'm off to the airport.

Check in is quick, which makes sense. Who would choose to fly at the butt crack of dawn if a later flight is available? Nonetheless the whole crew arrives shortly and we head to the plane.

Efforts to sleep were not successful. We had a layover in Newark anyways, so the first flight was barely an hour long. Too tire to read, I pulled out my ipod and let Mumford and Sons keep me occupied until we reached the garden state.

Getting off the plane in Newark we found ourselves in a mini food court, and only about a hundred yards from our connecting flight. Time for breakfast. Everyone in our group grabbed either a bagel or some stromboli. I had both. If we are only going to have rice and beans for a week I might as well splurge a little before we get there, right?

While we eat my brother arrives at the airport. Since he lives in NYC he was able to catch a train to the airport and got to sleep a little more than the rest of us. He grabs a quick bite and soon the start seating people for our flight into the Dominican. That's when our first snag hit.

Marie didn't have a seat. The flight was overbooked and everyone was able to get on the plane, except Marie. They told her they would ask if anyone would volunteer to let her have their seat, which my brother was prepared to do, however no one ever asked. So, about 30 minutes later seven out of the eight were headed for the Dominican.

Marie handled the situation well. Continental put her up in a hotel, paid for her meals, and gave her $500 towards plane tickets. It was the least they could do. When Marie arrived the next day she did not seem to put off by the experience, although she did have considerably less to read for the remainder of the trip.

The flight down was not so bad. Its a four hour trip, but the plane comes equipped with direct TV, and with a swipe of your credit card you can stay tuned for the entire trip. Thanks to my brother I was able to lose myself in cartoons. It was so comforting I even managed to doze off a few times. Then my brother rapped me on the head and told me he didn't pay for the TV so I could sleep.

After about an hour in flight breakfast was served. And like a true glutton I ate all of the glorious nastiness of what they called an egg sandwich. My brother tried to trade me his sandwich for my fruit, but I realized I needed something healthy and declined. If the food in the Dominican was bad, I had stored up enough fat that morning to last me a week.

Before long the plane was landing, and everyone cheered. People were shedding winter coats and sweatshirts to reveal tank tops and t-shirts. Boots were traded for flip flops, and pant legs were rolled up to the knee. As you get off the plan you are greeted by a Dominican mariachi band with a tip jar. My brother throw in some US dollars. Apparently he approved of this welcoming committee.

After winding through several hallways, going outside and back in, we arrive to a booth where we pay $10 to get into the country, but right next to the booth is a lady dishing out free samples of rum and coke. This is more the kind of welcoming committee I was looking for.

A man named Kojo picked us up form the airport in a big, white bus van and took us to a store down the road to change our dollars to pesos. Then we were back on the road, and in about five minutes we were pulling into Saman. It was a bit overwhelming. Suddenly we find ourselves immersed in this barrio, with not a single familiar face, and complete strangers are leading us to our home for the week.

The house was not quite what I was expecting. We were told we were staying in a community center, which this place may have been, but it was simply two rooms with a bathroom in between, and other than a couple bunk beds, mattresses on the floor and a small table, there was no furniture.

The rest of that day was just a chill day. We relaxed, unpacked, and started talking to the locals. Although there was not many who spoke English, and the few who did did not speak it well. Nonetheless, connections were being made.

Before dinner we explored the nearby town a bit. Some fresh pineapple and El Presidentes were acquired. I've never had such good pineapple in my entire life, and I'm doubtful I ever will. And the El Presidente wasn't too bad either.

Dinner was served around seven and was fantastic. If memory serves me right we had a stew with chicken and beans and other vegetables with rice, and fried plantains. An excellent first meal. After that we all went in for an early night. We were all exhausted, and we needed as much time as we could get to adjust to sleeping in Saman.

Taste and See

When I don't know what I want to read I tend to go to a random psalm. It works sometimes, but is hardly something that should be done instead of a regular reading plan. However this method recently brought me to Psalm 34, which is popular among the Church of the Brethren for verse 14, "Seek peace, and pursue it." But it also has this little nugget in verse 8,

"Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!"

What does that mean? I'm sitting here trying to wrap my brain around this verse. What is the metaphor that David was going for?

Carrots. Taste gross, but I know they are good for me.

Doughnuts. Taste awesome, but are slowly killing me.

So I am not sure that this has to do with health.

Perhaps its more about enjoyment. Perhaps David is saying "Try God. Just try a little taste. You'll like it." How else do we know if we like a food but to taste it. Yes, it seems more clear now. Try God. Get a little bit on your tongue. Isn't that nice? Don't you want some more? Yes, please.

Cooking with Beer

Earlier this week I made beer bread. It turned out alright, but I think it could have used a little more time in the oven as it turned out a bit doughy in the middle. The recipe was pretty simple. Here it is if you want to try it.

3 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
12 oz. bock or lager

Combine all ingredients and bake for 1/2 hour at 350 in a greased loaf pan.

I used Boston Lager for my beer. Next time I might go with a lighter beer, and try baking it for a bit longer. If you try this let me know.

Later today I'm making pancakes that call for beer. I'll be sure to post how that goes.

As far as the East from the West

Pslam 103:12 reads, "As far as the east from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us" (ESV).

Struggling with habitual sin is something so many deal with, myself included. It is easy to feel unclean and unworthy of God when this sin starts to take control and we feel helpless to break free of it. We grow weary of coming before God time and time again as we plea for forgiveness and for help to be rid of this heavy burden. "Lord, I've failed again." My friend Steve pointed out last night, that if that verse above is true then God's response might be, "Again?"

God has already separated us from our sin before, and he can do it again. Even in our lowest moments, when we feel that we have wandered too far, a fresh start is available; God is ready to separate us from our sin again. Thank God for that.

Recently I've seen friends on both sides of this. I have friends who are self-loathing, feeling worthless and undeserving of God's love and grace. It sucks. At the same time I am excited to see my friends who are crying out to God for a revival of their heart. The excitement they have for God is contagious and you can't help but want to glorify Him when you are around them.

In myself, as I struggle with the same sins over and over again I have to keep reminding myself the God can and does separate me from my sins. My favorite verse of any song goes "My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought, my sin, not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more! Praise the LORD! Praise the LORD, oh my soul!" What comfort it brings to know that there is nothing I can do to separate myself from the love of God.

Friends, what has been bringing you comfort lately?